We speak in the storeI’m a sensitive boreand you’re markedly moreand I’m oozing surpriseBut it’s late in the dayand you’re well on your waywhat was golden went grayand I’m suddenly shyAnd the gathering flooziesafford to be choosyand all sneezing darklyin the dimming divideI have read the right booksto interpret your looksyou were knocking me downwith the palm of your eyeThis was unlike the storyit was written to beI was riding its backwhen it used to ride meWe were galloping manicto the mouth of the sourcewe were swallowing panicin the face of its forceI was blue and unwell,made me belt like a horse.Now it’s done.Watch it go.You’ve changed some.Water ruin from the snow.Am I so dear?Do I run rare?You’ve changed some:peach, plum, pear.Joanna Newsom – Peach, Plum, Pear